A pink-streaked sunset spread across the sky and green leaves swayed gently in the wind. But the eyes of picnickers were trained on one particular tree, which had gold leaves that lit up and blossoms that looked like roses. A young man got down on one knee beside it and sang a love song.

There were moments in Gotham Chamber Opera’s production of "La hija de Rappaccini" at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden on Monday in which natural and man-made elements enchantingly fused together. But as in the plot of Daniel Catán’s 1988 work, they were also thrown into disconcerting competition.

Based on Nathaniel Hawthorne’s 1844 short story "Rappacini’s Daughter" and the 1953 dramatic version by Octavio Paz, the opera centers on a girl whose father conducts scientific experiments with plants. Growing up alongside poisonous flowers in 15th century Padua, Beatriz (Elaine Alvarez) is cursed to hurt all that she touches. When a young man named Giovanni (Daniel Montenegro) arrives in town, Beatriz enters his dreams.

In a reduced version for two pianos, harp and percussion, Catán’s score sometimes evoked Debussy and Montsalvatge with elaborate, rich keyboard writing. Vigorous slides and intricate figurations on the harp added color, as did trembling passages that called to mind Spanish guitar. Artistic director Neal Goren conducted a skilled ensemble.

Its vocal lines, which were often speechlike, posed challenges to the cast and the reduced orchestration seemed to limit inherent lushness. The first fully staged opera at the Garden, the production was somewhat difficult to evaluate in the outdoor setting, with its airplane interruptions and acoustical difficulties. Juan Tovar’s libretto also was fairly stilted in translation, with not much action prior to Beatriz and Giovanni’s final scene.

Director Rebecca Taichman wisely kept the staging fairly straightforward in a production dominated by clean lines and elegant images. Riccardo Hernandez’s set consisted of a circular red platform resembling a rose with the glimmering tree at the center and a bed representing Giovanni’s room. Peripheral supertitles at the sides of the stage were not ideal — there was a temptation to look away from the performers — but worked.

As Beatriz, Alvarez displayed a full, warm soprano, if not always as much dramatic commitment as one might have liked. By contrast, Montenegro sang with abandon as Giovanni, but sometimes sounded forced in his upper range.

Eric Dubin captured the cool, scientific affect of the title character. Jessica Grigg showed a lively presence as the maid Isabela, and Brian Downen sang with focused intent as Giovanni’s adviser and friend Baglioni.

One of the more interesting compositional aspects of the work was a trio of women representing flowers (Ariana Wyatt, Cassandra Zoé Velasco, Nora Graham-Smith), who seduce Giovanni. Instead of vibrant, exotic colors, they fit into Anita Yavich’s sober costume palette with black ball gowns, featuring pops of bright red, blue and purple.

GCO has been deservedly praised for trying new things — unknown works, unusual settings. But reflecting on "Hija" and the arresting but problematic "Eliogabalo" in the nightclub location of The Box, innovation sometimes came at the expense of function.

Fortunately, next season appears to mark a return to the boldness that has made the company one of the most exciting in the region, with two new works and two baroque pieces in friendlier venues such as the Gerald W. Lynch Theater and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.